Everyone adheres to this internal, fictional moral code that they've formed from life experience; the way their parents raised them, personal experiences that molded an idea of right and wrong, religious and society views. Yet, all I see are very imperfect, judgmental, creatures in my midst. I am no exception, less maybe the fact that unlike most, I scrutinize and amplify my faults internally, making them worse in my mind, rather than lying to justify them.
I wish there was someone I could talk to, someone that cared the least bit. I set myself apart, removed myself from the world, and did it with the idea that people were better off without me. While I may hold some candle of that belief, it removes very little of the sting that is loneliness. I can yell from the top of my lungs, until I am out of breath... No one will come running. I've trapped myself in this very small enclosure, and I just realized there's no point in writing this, it falls on deaf ears. I'll just close my eyes, and wish for something real.